The Greatest Wish
by Steve Lewis
Summary: Harry Potter is given a choice, will he make the right one? Not quite what you're thinking I imagine. R&R, I appreciate all comments, even the negative ones...


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Harry Potter

The Greatest Wish

By Steve Lewis

A/N: I know that it's been forever since I uploaded any fiction on this site at all, and I apologize to my (former?) loyal readers for that. I've since been very busy, but recently had the chance to look back over my "Hearts and Masks" series. I've made a couple of decisions based upon that look. Firstly, I'm going to finish H&M... soon, I'll be uploading chapters in the days to come. Secondly, in the meantime, I've created this little gem. This story actually has a plot, instead of the endless fluff I was previously famous for... Not that I don't like fluff, you'll see plenty of it in here too, but I like my new plot as well. In any event, while you're waiting for me to finish the Hearts and Masks series, please read and review this. As I said before, I apologize for my lapse, but I feel that my best apology lies in the pages ahead, since I feel you really will enjoy this story.

"Avada Kedavra!" The high, shill voice pierced the night air like a knife. Moments later Harry Potter saw Cedric Diggory, his newfound friend fall to the ground beside him. Voldemort advanced upon Harry now, his snake-like red eyes fixed upon Harry's prone body. Got to do something! Harry thought. Voldemort was coming closer, ever closer, and with each step Harry could feel the burning in his scar intensify. He tried to stand up, and couldn't. It was like he was chained to the ground. Looking around, Harry tried to see what was holding him. There was nothing, but he still couldn't move.

"And now, Harry, the boy who lived, will die!" screamed Voldemort. He raised his wand, and uttered the deadly incantation again....

Harry Potter awoke in his four-poster at Hogwarts, sweat pouring down his back. It took him a moment to realize that he was not in a graveyard, but yet safe and sound within the walls of the castle. Glancing out the window, he could barely make out the grounds, and the full moon that cast its eerie glow across the landscape. 

Taking a deep breath, Harry tried to settle back into his blankets. No pain in his scar, so it wasn't anything serious. Just a dream, a flashback. Yet, when it had really happened, during the end of his last term at Hogwarts, he wasn't so helpless. He had managed to escape Voldemort yet again. But Cedric, Cedric hadn't been so lucky. The thought still brought an unpleasant tingling to Harry's eyes. He fought to hold back the tears, but found he couldn't. It had been his fault, his fault that Cedric had died, no matter what anyone else tried to tell him, and he would have to live with that for the rest of his life. 

How many more had to die? Harry wondered. How many more before Voldemort finally found what he was after, and killed him? And most of all, why? Why did it have to be this way? Why did fate have to pick him, him of all people to go through all of this. He didn't ask to be the one that Voldemort couldn't kill. No more than he had asked for the lighting bolt scar on his forehead, or even to be a wizard at all. All Harry wanted was a normal life, and he had been denied that. In the muggle world he was nothing, and in the wizard world, he was everything. It was too much. He didn't want to have to deal with the dreams, with the people, and especially not with Voldemort. But he had no choice, this was the lot that fate had cast him, and he had no choice.

The next morning, Harry was awakened by the sound of fluttering feathers around his bed, and the voice of his best friend Ron, "Get over here you stupid owl," Ron was shouting. Harry opened his eyes to hazard a glance around the room, and saw a tiny gray shape whizzing about the dormitory. It could only be Ron's owl, Pigwidgeon. Finally, Ron managed to snatch the owl from the air, and relieve it of the letter it was carrying. 

Ron read silently for a moment before looking up at Harry. "They've caught him Harry," was all he could manage to say. Harry jumped out of his four poster, and joined his friend on his bunk.

"Sirius? How could they have, I mean he was hidden!" Harry said. For after all, it could only have been Sirius Black, Harry's godfather, and only living wizard relation. Sirius had escaped from Azkaban, the ominous wizard prison in the north sea, guarded by the all too terrible dementors, in Harry's third year. Since then he'd been running, coming out of hiding only to help Dumbledore face a newly risen Lord Voldemort.

"I dunno. The letter is from Dad, he found out about it this morning at work. It'll probably be in the Daily Prophet by this afternoon." Ron said. He looked absolutely miserable. About the way that Harry felt. Harry snatched the letter from Ron and read:

_Ron,_

I have horrible news to give you, and I ask that you pass it on to Harry, and Hermione as well. Sirius Black was caught last night, by a group of Aurors in Wales. We don't have any idea what he was doing there, and they won't let me in to question him, as I'm from the wrong department. You well know what the punishment for Black's supposed crimes are, and unfortunately, at the moment, I can think of no way to save him. I've already sent an owl to Professor Dumbledore, asking for his help, and last I heard, he was headed to London immediately to speak to Cornelius Fudge. I hate to have to bring you this news so close to the start of term, but I felt that you had to know.

Dad

The letter ended way too soon for Harry, "There's got to be more information! I just hope Dumbledore hurries back." Ron just continued to look at his friend with a mixture of shock and worry.

"We've got to talk to Hermione, maybe she'll have an idea." Ron said. Harry looked up at him with the first smile he'd had all day. 

"Gone awfully keen on here haven't we?" Harry asked him. Ron shrugged, and began blushing angrily. Ever since Hermione had turned him down at the Yule Ball the year before, Ron had been very sensitive about the fact that he'd shown a soft spot for her. Since the beginning of term, he'd been trying to avoid Harry's constant teasing about her. The only problem was, Ron didn't have anything better to throw back at him.

"Look, its just a good idea okay?" Ron said, exasperated. Harry just laughed and nodded. He'd leave Ron alone, for now. They both got off of the bed and dressed quickly. Hermione was bound to be in the Great Hall eating breakfast. She'd always been a fairly early riser, and by now, she was probably nearly finished.

Harry's guess proved correct. Hermione was just standing up to leave when he and Ron entered the Hall. When she saw the worried expressions on both their faces, she halted in her tracks. "What's wrong?" she asked, as they approached her. As quickly as he could Harry explained the circumstances to Hermione, who was soon lost in apparent thought.

"Dumbledore is supposed to be headed to London? Maybe he's got a trick up his sleeve we haven't thought of. After all, he never did tell us why he believed what we told him in our third year. Maybe he has information that we don't." Hermione said. The expression on her face told Harry that she was much more hopeful than confident.

"I don't think so, because if he did, he would have said something already. Besides, after last year, do you really think the Ministry is going to listen to him all that well?" Harry replied. "No, I think Sirius best chance is to be broken out again, but how?"

Ron, who had been listening to the two talk, finally spoke up, "I can write Dad back. Maybe Dumbledore told him what his plan was. In the meantime, all we can really do is wait."

Hermione agreed that this was probably the best idea, but Harry seemed set on more decisive action. "Maybe we could write Dumbledore directly, give him some ideas? Or get some ideas ourselves..." Harry let his voice trail off.

Hermione just shook her head, giving Harry a commiserating look. "You know we really can't do that Harry. Dumbledore's not likely to tell us anything as it is. And even if he did, what would we do with it?" She hated seeing the hopelessness dawn on her friend's features, but she couldn't see any reason to send him on a fool's chase.

"Well, I can't just stand by and do nothing! This is my Godfather, I can't let him just be handed over to the dementors for something I know he didn't do!" Harry said. He couldn't figure out why his two friends didn't understand what he was saying.

At this, Ron spoke up, "Look, I realize we'll have to do something, after all, we know he's innocent, but until we can help, we can't beat ourselves up worrying about it." He spoke with tone of finality that Harry recognized as being borrowed from his mother. "Class is going to start in a few minutes. If we're going to get out to herbology, we should get going."


End file.
